Petersons

Question Time

J. Stock asks, Author branding question here:If you were to add a stylistic third ‘middle name’, what would it be?

I’m going to answer this here because A) I’m really only writing this blog for J. Stock at this point and B) It’s a good question.

When I first started writing I thought I needed a cooler name, both because Adam Peterson is common enough another writer might share it and because, I don’t know, cooler names are cooler (I could name authors I think are twice as popular as they would otherwise be because of good names but I won’t).

Still, I’ll admit I never thought about John Cougar-ing up my name. If anything, I considered going with A. William Peterson because…I don’t know. I was a pretentious 20 year old who wanted to be a writer? I probably also corrected you when you pronounced Nabokov like Sting does.

Middle name options:

1) Dagger – My go-to fake cool guy name. This name is the greatest gift a parent can give a child. Or so I’m unsuccessfully trying to convince OKCupid.

2) Stone – Because my friend Justin always named his RPG characters this and I thought it was cool and Justin doesn’t write so screw Justin, I’m going to be the one to restore order to the Final Fantasy universe.

3) Adam – People would be like, “Have you read Adam Adam Peterson’s new tiny book?” And other people would be like, “No. No.”

4) Sarah – People would be like, “Is that a man or a woman?” And other people would be like, “We don’t know and we’re his parents.”

5) Pepsi – I could either go uber-hipster or uber-sell out with it.

6) Night – No way that could go wrong.

7) Toni Morrison – Just because it would be confusing and everyone would ask if we were related although probably not.

It’s family week here at SPM. Well, not really, but I’m at my parents’ place. So far this morning I’ve:

* Listened to someone debate Ann Taylor customer service on the telephone* Spent more than an hour trying to get an inkjet printer to work despite its insistence on a new cyan cartridge* Learned the complicated rules for bottle recycling* Learned the complicated rules for coffee ground disposal* Counted the number of icons on a parent’s computer desktop: 82* Agreed that it’s going to be hot out* Been asked to raise the thermostat anyway* Engaged in speculation over what my sister is doing right now* Prepared myself to discuss routine car maintenance later* Explained facebook and the advantages/disadvantages of joining it

I’m not sure, but I think I might have gained some insight into my teenage years. All I want to do is listen to grunge and drive around town. Maybe later I’ll write lyrics to an emo song and promise myself I’ll learn to play the guitar this fall. Any Taylor Loft/you’ve all gone soft/etc. Basically, I’m going to re-form the New Radicals before 3, get kicked out of the band by 5, and change my oil at 6.

* My attempts to purchase everything for my new apartment on Amazon.com – I won’t talk about this because then I would have to explain to you why my couch is going to be made out of remaindered copies of Tom Wolfe books. Frankly, this is something you should discover for yourself when you come to visit. When you see the Lego Star Destroyer I’m using as a coffee table, just pretend to be impressed and say yes when I offer you an appetizer off the back of a Roomba.

* This Houston-area ax-murder – I know, I know. You all told me, Don’t move to Houston, if the heat doesn’t kill you the ax-murderers will. Thankfully it was explained to me by former Houston-ites that they actually have “Cool Zones” where you can go to get away from the heat. This does nothing to stop the ax-murderers, of course, but it’s a start. Come to think of it, actually, if anything it will just make us easier for the ax-murderers to get us all.

* My going away party – It’s this Saturday. If I haven’t invited you, it’s an oversight and I’m sorry. You’re invited. You and it appears the 9 people I still know in Lincoln.

* The great deals on used furniture & dogs currently going on at my apartment – I just like joking about selling Brett so that when someone says, You’d have to pay me to take her I can throw $20 at them and run away laughing. Sadly, Brett will probably just chase me. Then you’ll use the $20 to by three-quarters of what I own. I’ll then use that $20 to buy 39 copies of I am Charlotte Simmons.

* This Royals season – Oh, god, they’re awful. Frankly, I’m going to be glad when the ax-murderer gets me. I hope we get the chance to talk about his job title as we enjoy the chilly air of the Cool Zone. I have questions. Like why is ax-murderer a thing, but if, say, you just going around stabbing people like some random Peterson, you’re not a knife-murderer. Instead you’re just sort of a jerk. I’m sure he’ll have thoughts on this.

While we’re at it, you should also pick up the new Alaska Quarterly Reviewwhich is so gigantic and beautiful I don’t quite know what to do with it. For the moment I’m mostly just playing a game of hide and seek with it around my apartment. I’ll set it on the coffee table and find it in the kitchen. I’ll move it to a bookshelf but wake up with it underneath my pillow.

It’s an issue. An issue I’ll read carefully.

My story is mostly notable because Dave Madden once criticized the opening scene as “Big Chill-esque” which would have been an insult if I’d seen The Big Chill (and if I didn’t like Tom Berenger so much, making it a sort of compliment). Also, it’s probably sort of true. As long as The Big Chill is about a guy who finds a heart in front of his house. Is that what it’s about? I’ve always assumed as much.

Slightly less notable: the family in the story’s original last name was Peterson because I couldn’t think of anything else to call them. This was awkward. I changed it.

Nobody wants to read about Petersons who aren’t murdering people. Or are they murdering people?

No, they’re not. At least I don’t think so.

So who wants to come over and watch The Big Chill? I’ll keep the lights on so we don’t get too scared.

Friend, writer, and all-star blogger Chris Higgs tagged me to do one of those seven things about myself chains, and I’m honored to have a spot on his list of luminaries (it’s the only list Kanye West and I both appear on that isn’t a list of people banned from a certain Macon-area Waffle House). That said, I had no intention of actually participating until I realized I had nothing else to post today. It was either do the list or begin my painstakingly detailed character guide for Fox’s new hit drama Fringe so…

1) Adam Peterson couldn’t live with what he did.2) Adam Peterson gave up the dream.3) Adam Peterson is second from the left.4) Adam Peterson lost a father.5) Adam Peterson is in favor of expanding the existing hog feeding facility.6) Adam Peterson is bone stock.7) Adam Peterson was 25.

Help! A friend is facing a tough choice over a costly car repair and you always know just what to do. Should I disinvite my step-mother from the wedding even if it means my father won’t be there or should I finally tell my neighbor that the jokes he makes in front of my children are inappropriate?

I’ve apparently suffered some kind of phantom muscle pull in my chest which is making it impossible to do anything other than breathe and type inane, paranoid blog posts. I’m even thinking about losing the breathing if this keeps up.

I say phantom because it was one of those injuries that occurred while I was doing nothing, causing my internal monologue to basically go something like Jesus, my chest hurts. Wait, how long has it been hurting? Think, Peterson, think. Oh no, thinking hurts. I bet that means this is never going away. I really don’t want to spend all Tuesday at a doctor only to be referred to another doctor who is only going to tell me that I’m dying. I wonder if that new J.J. Abrams show is on tonight? Oh no, thinking about J.J. Abrams hurts too. Has moving always felt like this? Nothing is ever going to be the same now.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know so that you won’t be shocked when my obituary shows up with muscle pull listed as the cause of death.

I’ve been vaguely aware of the name ‘Peterson’ popping up a lot on news sites I read. I hadn’t actually looked at any of the articles as I was pretty sure they weren’t about my fantasy football exploits and I haven’t really done anything else of note since high school debate. The articles all seemed to be about some Peterson’s wife being murdered and I assumed it was a rehashing of the Laci Peterson thing. For the first time I clicked on one of the articles today and it turns out yet another Peterson has allegedly murdered his wife. For some reason, this has really captured the nation’s attention again.

This time the guy–Drew Peterson (not to be confused with Scott Peterson)–possibly killed his 3rd and 4th wives, one of whom is named Stacy Peterson (not to be confused with Laci Peterson). You know who’s worried right now? Mrs. Traci Peterson.

For those keeping track, the most famous Petersons of recent memory are:

Thank god the Petersons have Adrian, otherwise I might be changing my name to something with fewer negative connotations like Simpson or Dahmer or maybe Stalin.

UPDATE: Heather reminded me of Kelsey Peterson, the Nebraska teacher who recently ran away with her 13-year-old student. This was mostly a Nebraska case, but still, what the hell is wrong with the Petersons? And it’s all people who spell it the right way, too. Now, people named Pederson or Petersen, those people have something to be upset about.